


Without Looking Back

by Kenocka



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Rengar as a child/teen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1284208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenocka/pseuds/Kenocka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never before had he walked that trail back home with more purpose than now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without Looking Back

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a response for my Rengar blog. The prompt was emotion: fear. 
> 
> It's not the best but eh. Sharing is caring. Lazy title is lazy.

It had occurred to him while returning home after a successful hunt that the house of his childhood was a safety net. The thought pricked at his pride and drew at his anger irrationally. He could not abide that fact and after a decade of learning all that he could from his father Rengar knew he had to leave. Never before had he walked that trail back home with more purpose than now. He had thrown his catch onto a counter top without care for what his father might say and gone straight to the room granted to him when he had been found ten years before.

The man didn’t attempt to stop him when he walked in on his son packing only his essentials though Rengar did pause for the briefest of moments, waiting for some signal that he would be stopped and when he received none he resumed. His father had only leaned on the door jamb and watched with a critical eye as to what went into the sack his child was filling. It felt like a test to the young hunter and he paid careful mind to what he thought he would and would not need. If he didn’t pick the right tools then he knew he would not be welcomed back into his father’s home. He was declaring his independence with this act and if he didn’t make it then it was due to his own inadequacies and ill-preparedness.

The sack was filled but light as he shrugged it on. He would carry most of his gear on his person after all and couldn’t afford to be weighted down. A breath that looked normal but was surprisingly deep filled his lungs as he felt the beginnings of fear and nervousness attempt to take root, attempt to convince him to wait just a few years more, his father had not even hinted at him having to leave before he had passed some imaginary graduation –

_‘No,’_  he thought with a vicious bearing of teeth at his own cowardice rearing its head.  _‘Comfort breeds weakness. Weakness must be purged.’_

When he turned his father was no longer standing in the doorway though that didn’t surprise the young lion. The human could be incredibly light-footed and generally practiced his stealth around Rengar just to see if he could move about unheard by his son’s keen ears to keep the young man on his toes. It was a credit to the man’s own abilities that he could do so as no other could make the same claim. The lesson was taken to heart and even as doubt –  _Look at what you’re still learning from him!_   _How dare you consider yourself ready for this?_ – rose up he buried it with the knowledge that no one other than his father could attempt to move around him without giving themselves away.

As he turned the corner out of the room –  _‘Not mine any longer.’_  – he saw his father leaning against the wall next to the house’s entrance with his arms crossed, one leg propped up on the wall in a way that would have earned the lion a hard smack. He held a knife that Rengar remembered him buying at a marketplace in one of the nearby villages. It was a long blade with a sudden curve at the edge, perfect for catching hold of tender innards as it was yanked away from whatever creature was unfortunate enough to be caught by it. The sight of it made him wary though he was careful to keep his tread from faltering as he approached.

Wordlessly the weapon was flipped and held out to him. Rengar stopped walking to look from it to the hard set of his father’s eyes. It was the last gift he would be given, the very last handout he would receive from a hunter regarded as legendary by all and as mythic by some. The blade was the man’s silent encouragement and it left the young hunter emboldened as he took it. No words were spoken as the two inclined their heads to one another and Rengar took to the wilderness without looking back. 


End file.
